Scorched Feathers

Feathers from a bird

Floating in the sky

Flew to close

To the passionate sol

Got scorched and fell without feathers

To Earth


As the bird fell

It passed

A mass of black twisting

The essence of its lost feathers

Passed it by


The ink from the quills was falling

Writing a heart ache

On the bird

Making it regret

And swear to not

Ever fly close to the sun


But that wish

Was useless

And it is still falling

As the blackness from its heart

Goes splat on the pavement

In the last words

It will see

Before its beak

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